


Safe

by Morrigan2345



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dogs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:12:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan2345/pseuds/Morrigan2345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know where he is, but he's surrounded by dogs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oklahoma

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to make this as sad as possible while simultaneously making it super cute, that is the goal.
> 
> There's (probably) going to be other chapters...
> 
> My tumblr is a-small-jewel-shard.tumblr.com go check it out for updates and stuff

There are dogs everywhere, there’s a small one in his lap and a big one by- on his feet really, and a few others scattered around his hunched over form.

He’s sat on a plastic chair in the middle of a long hall, kennels on his left and right full of quite, scared looking dogs, except for a few empty ones.  He looks down to the big one on his feet, sleeping soundly, and looks back to one of the empty kennels.  There’s only one with an open door though.

Why is he in a Pound?

He takes the small dog off his lap, which gets him a bit of an annoyed stare but nothing more, and places him next to the bigger dog.  He steps closer to the open kennel and examines the inside, there’s nothing that stands out when he looks but he still pauses for a second before he actually steps in.

Wasn’t he wearing a jacket?

He looks down to his sleeveless arms and notices that his hair is sticking up, there’s a shiver going down his back now that he’s half inside the kennel.  His eyes have yet to become accustomed to the lack of light in the place but there’s still enough of it to see that there’s a worn tile on the wall that’s not short enough for a dog to reach but perfect for an adult human.  He step closer to the tile and his fingertips are inches away from touching it when he feels a slight tug on the hem of his pants.

The big, dumb dog has his teeth caught in the bottom of his pants and is pulling gently, away and out of the kennel. 

“No.” He says in Russian while looking down at the dog, he stops pulling but doesn’t leave.  He doesn’t sigh when he turns back to the tile but he wants to.

When he adds the slightest bit of pressure on the tile it clicks and pops out of the wall a bit, he brings up his hands and shimmies the tile looser.  When he removes it completely he places it gently by his feet, the dog whines in the back of his throat when he goes to smell the tile.

“It will be fine.” He says to the dog, its ears twitch slightly and he pets the top of the dogs head. 

He turns back to the now open gap in the wall and sticks his hand in.  He feels around the opening and closes his hand around a door handle.  He turns it open and there’s a clicking sound and both he and the dog step back a little. 

It’s not a room, not in the normal sense of a room, but it’s big enough for him to step in without feeling like the walls are going to close in around him.  As he looks around he notices that the walls on his left and right have guns and other weapons attached to them and the wall right in front of him has a note stuck on it.  He steps closer and reads the messy scribbles on the lined paper.

 _“There’s something I remember.  It’s the ringing of bullets hitting metal, which is normal, but there’s laughter in there as well, and it’s that that doesn’t make sense.  Why would someone laugh when they’re being shot at?  Someone stupid, someone that’s probably real important to, I can’t remember that part…  They’re looking for me and it’s going to be bad, but I have a feeling that I won’t forget this place even if I_ forget _it.  Go to any bank in Phoenix and ask for Tina’s Safety Deposit Box, they’ll give you money and anything else you need.  When you leave take one of the dogs with you, save a stray, save yourself._

~~_Asset_ ~~

_The Winter Soldier.”_

He’s seen this handwriting before.

In the Smithsonian there’s an exhibit currently open about Captain America and his Howling Commandos.  It goes into detail on each of the Commandos that made it out of the war and the two that didn’t, but the exhibits pride and joy are the few letters trade between each of the Commando’s family, and especially the few between Captain America himself and Bucky Barnes.

He’s seen this handwriting before.

The dog is pulling at his pants again, it shakes him out of his trance enough to hear the click of the front door of the small building.  He looks to the wall of weapons and decides that a gun would be too loud and picks up a couple of knives before stepping out of the room.  He hears footsteps coming closer to the back of the room a few seconds later.

The agent doesn’t even see him at first, they’re too busy placing their gym bag on the desk in front of them.

They finally notice him standing there, but before they even reach for their waistband they see the knives he’s holding and stop in their tracks.

They know who he is.

“Where am I?” he asks in English and twirls the knife in his hands.

“Oklahoma.  You’re supposed to be dead”

“I was supposed to be dead a long time ago too.” He says and throws the knife.

He walks to the desk and empties the contents of the gym bag, except for the spare money that’s left in there, and takes it back to the small room and fits a few weapons in it.  He takes the note off the wall and closes the door behind him.  When he finishes putting the tile back he turns around to see that the big brown dog is sitting and looking up at him while the smaller one that was previously sleeping on his lap is leaning against the other dog’s leg.

This time he sighs and looks back to the note in his hand.  To the left of him are large bags of dog food and extra bowls.

He goes to the body and pats them down for their car keys, when he finds them he straightens back up and heads towards the front door, both dogs walking behind him.  He opens the small cars back doors to let the big dog jump in while he lifts the small one in the passenger’s seat.  He quickly heads back into the store and picks up the four large dog food bags, only sparing the dead body in the floor a glance.  No one’ll find the body for a while and by that time he’ll already have switched cars.

He puts the bags in the trunk, he takes a few guns out of the bag to put in the car itself but leaves the bag in the trunk.  When he gets back into the driver’s seat both dogs are sleeping and the sun is only just peaking around the buildings surrounding them.

He starts the car and heads west.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I know that's not how tiles work but whatever
> 
> 2) The shelter is (was?) a Hydra safe house, that's why he knew where some stuff was and the person he killed was in fact Hydra but also a employee at the shelter if you know what i'm saying...
> 
> 3) I don't know anything about the US and I don't know why I picked Oklahoma (I do actually, I like saying the word Oklahoma...)
> 
> 4) I fucking love dogs ok, they're gonna be main characters


	2. Something Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter but I think it's ok...

By midday he decides, with the dogs barking in the background, that it would be a good time to change cars.  And maybe get some food.  Or go on a run, seeing as though the big dog looks like he wants to jump out of the window and into the forest they’re driving past.

As he drives on he takes a short turn and sees a small gas station, he needs gas anyway.

He parks near the first pump and gets out, he hears the dogs calming down enough to just loud whining while he sticks the nozzle in the car.  He finishes up and moves towards the dingy looking store.  As he makes his way to the front the boy manning the cash register keeps on reading the magazine on the desk in front of him.  When he makes it to the desk the boys eyes snap up towards his, surprise colouring his face.

The boy smiles, “Hi there, what can I do for you?” he asks.

He smiles back, more friendly then killer, “The gas.” He says and points to the car, where both dogs are looking out from the back of the car at them.

The kid laughs and looks to the car then back to him, there’s something in his eyes but the boy just sticks his hand out and he gives him the total amount of cash.  He's almost out the door when he remembers something.

“Do you have any collars?” he asks the boy, who had gone back to reading the magazine.

“Well…” he looks to the dogs, “I think we have big enough ones for the small one but no actual collar for the big one.  Would a bandana be good?” the boys asks, already getting up even before he nods his head.  He walks back to the front while the boy goes into the back of the store, a few seconds later he comes back with a small purple collar and a bright orange bandana and places them on the desk.  The kid sticks out his hand again and he drops the appropriate amount of money into them.

He picks up the two collars and smiles, wider then before and lets it reach his eyes, “Thank you.”

There’s still something in the boys eyes, it deepens but he turns back to the door, only hearing a small response under the loud ringing of the bell on the door.

The dogs are still whining when he gets back so he quickly turns on the car and heads back to the forest they passed by earlier.  When they reach their destination he turns in his seat slightly and ties the orange bandana around the big dog’s neck, making sure it’s not too tight.  The big dog fusses with it while he’s putting the smaller collar on the smaller dog.

“Leave it.” He says, in Russian.  The dogs seems to understand and snorts softly at him.   

He picks the smaller dog up and gets out of the car to let the big dog out as well, he goes back to the trunk of the car and puts the little dog down on the ground by his feet.  He opens the trunk, and is about to get the food bowls, when he hears the sound of a car approaching and stopping nearby him.  He quickly turns around and sees the boy from the gas station get out of his car, his shoulders slump slightly and nods at the boy in greeting.  The boy nods back and brings up his two hands, each holding two big water jugs.

“I saw your dogs, mister, and I thought you might have needed these.  You don’t have to pay for them, they’re on me.”  The kid smiles again and tosses the water jugs, one at a time, not stepping closer.

He looks down at them and back to the kid, “Thank you, again.” And turns back to the trunk, intending to get the dog food out.

He hears the gravel crunch underneath the boys boot as he leaves.

He places one hand in the gym bag, he finds a knife.

“I’m sorry.”

The gravel crunches underneath the boy’s body, a syringe rolls out of his limp hand, and his blood seeps into the ground. 

He looks into the boys eyes and there’s nothing.

The dogs whine, low in the back of their throats.  He says sorry again, this time in Russian, and the dogs quiet.  He has a feeling he’s going to have to apologize a lot to them in the future.  

He puts the boy’s body in the car he was driving and takes his keys to the pickup truck the boy drove in with.  He opens the door for the bigger dog and picks up the smaller one while it jumps in, he places it next to it and shuts the door.  He transports everything he had in the old car into the new one and only spares the boy’s body a glance. 

No one’ll find the body for a while and by that time he’ll-

By that time he’ll be in a bank in Phoenix, getting a passport.

He starts the truck, and pulls out from the side road.  He pets the small dog with his left hand behind the ears and it moves to lick him, he thinks he might be forgiven.  It might be a different story when he looks at the bigger dog, who seems to be in a mood and is glaring at the passing trees.  He taps his stomach slightly, making a small exasperated sigh come from the dog.

“Sorry, a little later, I promise.” He says, this time in English, and the dog turns to look at him with what could only be surprise.

He turns his eyes firmly to the road as the smaller dog starts to gnaw on the bigger dog’s tail, theirs a small smile on his lips as he drives on.

There’s a small pain in his left arm but he just rubs the skin their a little and ignores it.

He heads west.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The boy was the son of someone from Hydra, it doesn't really matter since i'm not putting it into the story but I thought it would be nice to know 
> 
> 2) The dogs were fed before this but really earlier on so that's why they were a) hungry (dogs are always hungry) and b) restless (more the bigger one then the smaller one) 
> 
> 3) "What about his arm?" you ask, "Did you make a mistake, his arm is made of metal, not skin!" you exclaim. "You'll have to keep reading." I say....... No but seriously, I know what his arm is made of, just- just trust me 
> 
> 4) The dogs will probably be getting names later on, and i'll say his name later on as well... Don't worry it's not like beetlejuice or whatever, I just don't think it's the right time to make him accept that that's his name (wow now I can't even type it)  
> (Do you even read this? You know what I don't even care, I like writing these)


	3. Rooms

It’s a long time before he reaches Phoenix, and by that time it’s night and he finds out that the dogs get antsy when it’s too dark in the car.  So he pulls over into a motel parking lot, when he opens the door he tells the dogs to stay.  He opens the trunk and gets some money out of the gym bag, he closes it and walks over to the small buildings entrance.

No one’s at the front when he steps inside so he walks up to the desk and rings the small bell that’s on it.

He waits.

He takes a breath when he hears a creak in the floorboards, he should have-

When he turns around, knife in hand, there’s a small woman with red hair behind him looking impatient.

“You’re losing your touch.”

He remembers her, there was an explosion and she threw something at him.  There was also a rain of bullets but this time she isn’t firing them at him she’s firing them for him, and her hair is dark.

“Natalia.” he says, somewhat confidently.  He feels as though he shouldn’t have said what he said because her face turns from impatient to confused and sad.

This woman should not be sad, he know this.

“I don’t- How do you know that name.”

He's about to answer when he hears a bark come from the parking lot.

He looks at Natalia, who still looks confused, and he feels irrationally betrayed by her.  He rush past her and hears a small curse behind him but he's already crashing through the door to see his dogs being handled into a truck.  The small one is trying to bite the hands that’s holding it and the bigger one is looking around, whining, until it finds him throughout the people, and the big, dumb, _stupid,_ dog starts waging its tail.

He steps forward but he feels a needle poke the skin of his neck and he falls to his knees.  Someone- red hair comes into his blurred view- Natalia comes to his front and drops to her knees as well.  She puts her arms around him to keep him from falling on his face.

“Just close your eyes Bucky.”

The last thought he has before he falls unconscious is that if anything happens to his dogs he’ll kill all of them.  He might have said that out loud seeing as though Natalia’s arms tighten around him.

 “I’m sorry” he says in Russian, he hears his dogs whining as his eyes close.

*

He wakes up in a room with bright lights and a headache, the painful thumping behind his eyelids cause him to sit up slowly from the cot he was put on.  He rubs his eyes tiredly until the door opens and Natalia and a blond man walk in.  They sit side by side on two chairs near his bed, the man holding a piece of paper and Natalia holding a thin file.

He’s only see this file once.

“Where did you get that?” his voice is scratchy and doesn't sound pleasant, the blond man stands up and gets a glass and fills it with water.

“I know my way around things.”

“Yes you do.” There is confusion in her eyes again but it is carefully out of her expression, he only knows because he knows _her._

The blond man takes his seat and hands him a glass of water, he notes the scratches and bandages on the man’s hand but reaches up to accept the glass.  Only to stop.

They have to restrain him a little, he calms down just as about 20 people charge into the room wearing full SWAT gear.

What happened to his arm?

“What happened to my goddamn arm?  I had it- I remember having it before you- What did you do to me?” he doesn't sound angry, even to his own ears, just defeated.  No one relaxes in the room except the blond man.  He kneels down and looks into his eyes.

“My name is Clint Barton, and I need you to tell me that you’re calm enough so that I can pull rank and send these guys out of the room.  Natasha please stop kicking me.” The last part makes him equally confused and happy, she hasn't changed.

But,

“If I say I’m fine will you tell me what you did with my arm and why it’s- why it’s metal?” he says quietly so the man, Clint, only hears it.  He nods his head.

“I’m stable, I was just very surprised…” he tells Natalia and the room.  Clint nods to Natalia and she points her finger to the door.

“Ma’am-“One of the soldiers ask, but Natalia just grunts a command and they scurry off through the door.

Clint turns back to face him, still crouching, and points to his metal arm.

“We didn't do that man, I mean I’m pretty sure we didn't?” he ends with a question directed at Natalia and she confirms what Clint said.

“Then who?” he needs answers, he needs them to stop fucking around with him.

“We aren't fucking around with you, we just can’t give you all the information right now, seeing as though you didn't even remember you had that same metal arm for, supposedly, 60 plus years and when you did find out you almost killed us.” Clint says patiently, or seemingly patiently going by the smirk on Natalia’s face.

He sighs and gets up, “If I wanted to kill you you’d already be dead.” He says and sits back onto the bed.

Clint stands up as well but neither he or Natalia sit down, “Like we've never heard that one before.” He says.

He sees the file she’s still holding and nods to it, “That file is mine, no?” he says to Natalia.

“Yes, but as Clint has said-“ he cuts her off carefully.

“Not stable enough, yeah, got it.”

There’s a silence in the room that both of them don’t care about but Clint seems to find it too tense so he starts talking again.

“This paper,” he points to the sheet, “lets us, um, have custody- well not _custody_ custody of you, it really means that we’re allowed to hold you for however long you need to be held here, seeing as though we can’t confirm or deny that you’re actually you, you know what I mean?”

He shakes his head, “I really don’t.” but reaches for the paper anyway.

Clint hands him the paper, “Well I mean since you may or may not be- ok, ow, first of all, and second of all will you please stop Natasha seriously, why do you have to kick so hard?" He looks back to the smiling woman.

“Not yet.” She says and they both turn back to him.

“Pen?” he asks a few seconds later and two pens are presented to his face faster than he could get the word out.  He takes Natalia’s pen, which gets him a small grin from her and a disappointed pout from Clint.

“Before I sign this,” he asks pen still on the paper, “I need to know something.”

They both look at each other nervously, but nod their heads.

“Where are my dogs?”

A few things happen after he says this.  First, Natalia just looks annoyed and glances over at Clint, Second, Clint himself looks proud and nervous.  Which in turn makes him even more confused and even more anxious, they both seem to realize this and rush to explain, at the same time.

“Ok!  Alright, one at a time, really did I need to even say that.” And the both quiet down, Clint looks proud again and starts to talk.

“The small one likes me and lucky, my dog, better then Natasha.” He says with triumphant grin while Natalia huffs quietly.

“The big one doesn’t like you.” She says with a raised eyebrow, which only dims Clint’s grin slightly because he comes back with, “Well, he doesn’t like you more then he doesn’t like me!” and it looks like Natalia’s going to say something but he cuts them both off with an angry and impatient tone.

“ _Where_ are my dogs?” he asks again

They sober up quickly and Clint talks again, “They wanted to put them in a kennel somewhere in the facility but Nat told me so I would make sure they stayed with me, which I did and they are.”

“Oh.” He processes this thoroughly he signs the paper so he doesn't have to look at them, “Are they- Do they…?” he doesn’t know what to ask, do they miss him, they've known him for less than a week only do they even remember-

“They both miss you, I think the big one the most though.”

“Oh.” He says again.

“What are their names by the way, Steve came around and tried to see if he could guess any names you picked but we ended up calling them big one and small one, which worked a little.” Clint says

“They have no names really, I didn’t really have the time…” He thinks about the Shelter person and the boy, “I was very busy.”

There’s a second of silence until Clint speaks up again, “Well that’ll need to change.” He says simply, the silence this time is longer then before and Natalia seems to be tenser then before as well.  He goes through the conversation the just had.

“Who’s Steve?”

There’s a bang from the outside.

“No one at the moment, we have to go now-“

Another bang.

“-Clint will bring your dogs in tomorrow.  Just lie down and close your eyes.”

They leave and the door shuts with a bang.

He lies down and closes his eyes.

“Who’s Bucky?” he mumbles and someone mutters a curse from outside his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) As you might have guessed Natasha (Natalia) does not remember him, i've seen a lot of him not remembering her but i the fact that's her that doesn't remember him now (like in the comics actually).
> 
> 2) I bet you thought it was Steve and not Clint, ha.
> 
> 3) I'm also going to say that Clint and Natasha are like super high in like Chain of Command and stuff... S.H.I.E.L.D. the official title/place is gone but now it's Stark something and they're missing a few higher ups that were either a) killed or b) hydra, so both Clint and Natasha were moved up (that's probably really wrong and in really life they wouldn't probably do it like that but what can I say...).
> 
> 4) I don't really know how to describe the arm situation, he probably went back to a newer hydra safe house that was full of no one so he rummaged around a little and found a slip on skin thing but before he could leave they caught him and like tried to erase like everything but they only got like really really short term stuff (think, the first time we see him in CA:TWS) and so he escaped with the skin thing still on... 
> 
> 5) Steve got a lil angry there (Ohhh shit i dropped the "S" bomb)
> 
> 6) On an even sadder note he signed the paper along the lines of "W.Soldier." Which i mean...
> 
> (This one isn't super clear to me right now but i'll clean it up later, also if you don't get something just ask, like I like answering questions so...)


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short, again, but guess what.....

He only sleeps three and a half hours, he knows someone’s behind the one way mirror, it’s reinforced specifically for him he guesses because it didn’t shatter when he hit it, and that they’re watching him pace around the room.  He gets tired, seeing as there’s no way out, and sits with his back against the wall opposite to the window and just stares at it.  Blankly at first but as hours go by he can feel his face twitching, small ones he can’t seem to control, and then he feels tears forming in his eyes.  He doesn’t let them fall, he doesn’t understand why he’s crying, and just stares at the window until he hears the latch of the door unlock.

Clint opens the door up and-

And then he’s engulfed by thick fur and he feels small teeth biting his foot. 

“My dogs.” He says in Russian, and the big dog licks his face, Clint makes an affirmative sound which surprises him.  “You know Russian?” he asks in English while rubbing his cheek on top of the dogs face as Clint sits down on the same chair he sat on the day before.

“Well, the lady-“he cuts him off

“Natalia?” he doesn’t look up as he says this

“Yes, she likes Natasha now though.” Clint pauses and he looks up from the dog

“Natasha is a nice name” he says quietly and Clint clears his throat slightly

“It is,” he says, smile evident in his voice, “anyway, she taught me some basic grammar, a few words here and there.  I never really had to learn that much since whenever I had to go to Russia she was with me.” 

“I can teach you some.” The second he says it he regrets it, these people are not his friends, Clint is not a friend, he’s pretty sure Clint helped bring him in.  He’s about to take it back somehow when Clint laughs, a piercing sound in the small room.

“Sure man, Nat stopped trying more complex vocabulary though.  She said something about me being useless, I mean it was in Russian so I think she said useless.  Anyway nothing to worry about, I’m not as bad as she says, I’m just use to learning a new language by myself.” He ends with a tired looking smile, and now that he’s looking, the man in front of him looks tired, not as he did yesterday but like he was fighting a war.  He’s seen that look somewhere and then he sees bluer eyes and blonder hair but-

There’s a deep purple bruise blossoming high on Clint’s cheekbone.

“Who did that?” He can’t help himself it seems, he keeps himself from saying anything more by biting his tongue, not enough to bleed but a reminder.  Clint looks up from petting the dog and while his face has confusion written all over it his ears start to turn pink with embarrassment.  It’s disheartening.

“Well- I, um, seem to attract fighting it was just a scrap, nothing big, I’ve had worse- ok now you’re touching my face.  Ow, ow ok no, you see, it hurts a little when you- Ow I wonder if Nat got it from you or you got it from her- Ok!  Stop it- I’m fine.”  He steps back but squints slightly at Clint, “Really.”  The other man insists.

“That was not made by a fist.” He sits back down on the floor and pats the bigger dogs head again, “Natal- Natasha got it from me by the way, if you were really wondering…” he says and Clint perks up

“How-“he cuts him off

“We worked, together.  On multiple occasions.  I think she forgot things but she has the same movements of the girl I knew, long ago.” He looks up from the dog to Clint who’s looking somber but hopeful.

“There was one time…”

*

The door clicks as Clint leaves with the dogs in tow, he stops slowly, before he exits through the next door.

“You need to go home.” He says to the hunched over form that’s sitting by the window

“I will- I have.” The man replies

“I’m serious, a few more days and we’ll be transporting him, we need you to be re-“the creaking of the plastic chair stops him from continuing, the man stands up and turns around with bloodshot eyes.

“Clint, he doesn’t even- How can I just…” Clint moves forward, enough to put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, I get it, I really do, but we need you focused here ok?” Steve nods but Clint starts again, “ _He_ needs you, he’s gonna go through some shit Steve, and he may or may not want you when that happens, but you still need to be prepared.”

Steve smiles tiredly as he nods again but his eyes drift towards the bruise on Clint’s face and the smile slips away.

“I’m sorry about-“Clint stops him with a wave of his hand

“Next time, when you’re charging out of the room I’ll be sure to get out of your way.  Or at least move all the sharp objects.” He pats Steve on the shoulder and moves to pick up the dog’s leases, “Come on, I’ll walk you to your apartment, don’t look at me like that the dogs and me need some exercise, let’s go.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, “Gimme a second, I need to get something, you can wait outside.” And turns around to start rummaging through the desk next to the window.

Clint stares at his back for a second and then walks out of the room, dogs behind him.

Steve stops and closes the drawer and turns back to the widow.  He swallows the urge to break down the door to the other room, the one with Bucky.  He sets his fingertips gently on the glass window and the other man, who was still sitting on the floor opposite to the window but with his head tilted down now, slowly lifts his head and glances at the window.

The speakers in the room are so high tech that they could catch a fly landing on a table Natasha told him, you’ll hear everything he’s saying she said with a small smile.  He wishes that she was exaggerating, because when Bucky mumbles “Why don’t you just come in here?” softly and makes a face of regret afterward it’s harder to turn around and head out the door and tell Clint he’s fine, that he’s got everything he needed.

It’s harder, just like everything else, why would he expect anything different.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Yay Steve 
> 
> 2) Oh Steve 
> 
> 3) He's imprinting on Clint like a duckling, kind of, like not in a creep Twilight sort of way 
> 
> 4) He told Clint a few stories, funnier ones, nothing to gruesome
> 
> 5) Steve's probably slept their since they brought him in 
> 
> 6) Steve did not, I repeat, did not hit Clint like that would not- i'd never write that first because Clint gets beat up enough, and second Steve's Clint's #3 (Natasha and Lucky) fan. He was just knocked over by Steve barreling past him and his face hit a table...
> 
> 7) I don't know how he heard that


	5. Food

Natasha is next to visit him, she doesn’t bring the dogs but she does bring in food, and not the stale food he’s been getting but something that smells good and has actual colour to it.

“What is this?” he looks at it, not eating it yet.

“It’s meat, some asparagus, and a processed brownie.” She says and gives him a plastic fork.

He takes the fork with his metal arm and stabs the already cut up piece of meat, brings it up to his mouth and eats it.  They stare at each other for a few seconds as he finishes chewing and then he bites the asparagus, after he’s finished the two bites he squints his eyes at her, which she responds with a roll of her eyes.  When he doesn’t feel dizzy he shrugs his shoulders slightly and starts eating the rest of the food.

“Where did you get this?” he asks after he’s done chewing

“There’s a small store that sells warm cheap food down a couple of blocks from a friend’s apartment.” She says

He looks up from his plate, “Clint?” she shakes her head, “How many friends do you have now?  Because from what I remember, which isn’t a lot, you weren’t always the friendliest person.” He knows it’s rude but it’s the truth and that’s really all he has now.

“I’m still not the friendliest, but, I’ve changed how I deal with new people.” She says simply, he knows she must remember him, at least a little bit like him, but he lets it drop in favour of finishing of the meat and asparagus and starting on the brownie.

Damn, he thinks as he vision blurs.

He looks at her, swaying slightly, “I should stop trusting you until you’re on my side.” He slurs and drops his head down onto his chest, still conscious enough to hear the door open again and Natasha mumble, “Or until you’re on mine?” softly, hopeful sounding he thinks, near his ear.

Then he’s out completely.

*

He wakes up in a car and to the sound of a pencil scratching a sheet of paper.  There’s a blindfold covering his eyes so he can’t see the person a few feet away from him and chains around his legs.  He keeps quiet, not notifying them that he’s awake, he has a feeling that he’s not supposed to be up right now, mostly because they laced his food with drugs.  So he keeps quiet, but he tries to figure out where he might be.  He and the other person seem to be the only people in the, what he assumes is a truck.  It’s cold enough to be a relatively large one, nothing extreme or high tech.  He doesn’t think they thought this plan through enough, or at least they didn’t know about his enhanced body systems.

There’s a little part of him that’s hoping they did, maybe Natasha wanted-

The pencil stops moving along the paper long enough for him to collect his scattered thoughts.  The person speaks quietly a few seconds later.

“I think your small dog likes me, Buck.” He says and, other than the name, that is a surprise in itself.  There’s no significant meaning of the name though, he’s starting to think they’re referring to him.  Which seems ridiculous at first but seeing as though he doesn’t even know who or what he is it doesn’t seem that farfetched.  He lets it sit in his mind, a heavy presence, and turns back to the man next to him.  He’s gone back to writing and there’s a hint of _something_ that seems familiar but it wasn’t dark and cold as it is now, it was too bright and the air was warm.  The kids that are around him aren’t crying but laughing, and everything is too much but not enough because he can’t see anything- why can’t he see-

 Two strong hands grab onto his shoulders and the person’s voice pierces through the haze of sounds.

“Bucky!  Hey look at me- wait shit-“, and then the blindfold comes off and he’s staring at a man who looks like he's about to cry, he thinks he’s seen him somewhere before, “-ok, hi, you have to calm down.  Just breathe in and out for me, slowly.  Ok that’s good, that’s really good Buck just breathe.” 

He should really start trying to escape now, the man's guard is down and well, he’s pretty sure he could take him if it came down to it.  There’s nothing stopping him.

He repeats that to himself, nothing _is_ stopping him, nothing at all.

He makes a split second decision, which he’s pretty sure is the wrong one when he hears the man grunt in pain from the punch to their gut as he makes his way to the back of the truck.  It’s not a pleasant sound and, again, this seems eerily familiar.  He doesn’t like it.

He unlocks the hatch somehow from within and as the door swings open he sees a SUV trailing behind them.  They see him and for a few seconds the driver and the passenger stare up at him before the passenger hurriedly rolls down the window and drags a gun outside.  They try to shoot him but he’s already jumping out of the back of the truck, the person’s groans still in the background, and jumping on top of the SUV.  They try to shoot him through the top of the car but miss him as he rolls to the passenger’s side.  He swings down and punches through the thin glass, he grabs the passengers gun and holds it up at them.  He’s starting to see the upside of the metal arm.

“Stop the car.” He says as calmly as he can over the rushing wind, and the drive complies coming to a slow halt.  He jumps off and backs away, he sees another car speeding closer to them so he starts walking backwards before glancing at the truck quickly.  The man is holding a hand to his side as he jumps out, he put up both hands, not in defence but in comfort.

“Buck, just, wait ok we’re not trying to hurt you.” But the cars coming closer and he sees a red dot in the passenger’s seat.

“Sorry.” He says, and means it, as he turns around a runs away.

They’re in a desert apparently.

He hears a curse from behind him and hears the rush of feet trying to catch up.  He thinks the punch was hard enough to break a rib or two, which means the man running after him should have trouble breathing let alone running.  He turns his head slightly and sees the man clutching his side but ultimately keeping up, the man seems to have the same enhanced system as him.  Weird.  And noted.

They run for a second longer until he feels a small pain at the back of his neck, and another one when nothing happens.  The third one makes him stumble and fall to the sand, he hears the man running closer and closer to his body.  He hears the man wheezing sharply, and once again this seems awfully familiar. He also hears the sound of a helicopter, even though it can’t be true because he should have heard-

A man jumps onto the ground next to him and turns him over.  Through his dizzy vision he sees a man dressed in purple and a tranq gun in one hand. 

He closes his eyes but mumbles out, “Dick.” In Russian quickly.

“Hey!  I actually know that one.” Clint says.

He blacks out. This is becoming a theme.

*

This time when he wakes up he’s in a room with more than one person and the chains they put on him are heavier.  At least they’re learning. 

He’s not wearing a blindfold this time so when he opens his eyes he makes eye contact with a guard, who promptly speaks into their ear piece and a door opens shortly after.

A man and a woman step inside, they bring in an air of advertised danger unlike Clint and Natasha who concealed it when they first met him.  These two are not here to make friends it seems.  They send the guard out and crowed around his bed as they leave.

The man looks down at him with a glare, “You signed the paper.” He says and the woman sighs as he rolls his eyes.

“So?” he says and the man stares at him for a second than open his mouth to respond but the woman butts in quickly.

“Nevermind that, what I need from you right now though is to understand that we are not the enemy, ok?  We’re not here to hurt you.”  As she says this her eyes squint slightly, he wasn’t going to call her out on it but he’s sure she’s the one that was shooting at him before.

“You’re not here to hurt me?”, he says sarcastically and she clenches her jaw as he strains his hands against the chains, “Really?  Because this sure doesn’t look like it.”

“It’s a precaution.” The man says

“I haven’t even hurt anyone yet.” He says, then he thinks about it for a second, and yes, yes he has.  He grimaces slightly when they both look at him intensely, “I broke the guys rib didn’t I?” and the both nod, “I didn’t kill anyone.” He says and the woman presses he lips together

“That’s good information.” She says sarcastically and he sighs in frustration

“Why am I even here?  I know I’ve done things, and I’m sure there’s even more things I don’t remember, but I should be on trial.” The two look at each other before the woman speaks up

“I’m sure you’ll be put on trial in due time, but for now we’re handling a few things by ourselves.” She says and the man nods.

He sighs and turns his head, he notices a plate of food, “Who are you?” he asks, done with the conversation for the moment.

He hears the man chuckle, “The good guys.” He says and then turns to the woman.  She nods to the door and he steps outside of the room, from the opening of the door he can see blond hair. He doesn’t care, not right now that is. 

The woman clears her throat, “Agent Barton will bring your dogs in, seeing as though you’re mostly calm with them around, in a few hours.” He makes an affirmative sound and she goes to the door to leave.  Her hand is on the door handle before looking at him over her shoulder, “You should try eating something.” She says and a bitter laugh escapes him.

“Sure thing lady.”

The sound of the door is loud and painful.

Maybe he should eat the food, there’s too much noise in his head anyway, and some quiet would be nice.

The chains rattle loudly as he reaches for the plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Natasha remembers kind of
> 
> 2) If you're trying to visualize the truck think of the one they use to deliver cakes in Cake Boss... 
> 
> 3) wooohh he's starting to remember Steve, kind of
> 
> 4) He did that flip on the car thing, the one from CA:TWS
> 
> 5) The metal arm is useful and it's apart of him now, it's his arm, he accepts it 
> 
> 6) Those two people were Sharron and (probably) Sam...
> 
> 7) He totally ate the food


	6. It's a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be a little to heavy for some people so see the notes at the end for a description, it has spoilers, obviously, for this whole chapter.

“Sam!” Steve yells from the kitchen while rummaging around the fridge

“What?” Sam yells back, distracted by something else, probably a video game

“Did you eat my celery sticks?” Steve yells again

“Why would I do that?” and he can hear Sam rolling his eyes from upstairs

“I don’t know Sam, because you’re a growing boy?” and the other man laughs and says that he didn’t take them again, “Well if it wasn’t you then who’s eating my goddamn food?” he mumbles to himself moving jars of jam trying to see the back of the fully stocked fridge.

“Me.”

Steve, after everything is over, will deny shrieking loud enough for Sam to drop his controller.  Sam will utterly back up Natasha whenever she brings it up that she scared Steve enough that he woke up half the neighbourhood.

“Oh my god!” Steve ~~shrieks~~ squawks clutching both his chest and the back of his head as he watches Natasha bite a celery stick.  “Why are you so quiet?” Steve groans and closes the fridge behind him, she flicks a celery piece at his head.

“Your boy is getting moved again.” She says, not looking at him.

“What?  Why?” he asks concerned

“He’s not eating again, and he doesn’t talk to anyone.  It’s important to get him out of an environment if its not helping him in anyway.”

“I- you said he actually liked it there.”

“He said he did.”

“This is the third time Nat,” he says, but looks away from her clenching his jaw, “if you’d let me help once in-“ he’s just starting the, now, age old argument between him and Natasha of how, since last time, Bucky shouldn’t see him for a while because it would be hard for him.  Steve, obviously, did not like the statement but he saw the logic behind it and he would put his own selfish needs, ones that make him want to take Bucky and just run, last if it helped Bucky in anyway.  He’s sure that Sam would say something about that, but when it comes to Bucky, Steve realises, he has some trouble thinking like Captain America and not the angry kid that only had Bucky. 

He rubs the back of his head and starts listening to what Natasha’s actually saying.

“-wants you.” She finishes with her eyebrow raised, like she knew he wasn’t listening

“Sorry?” he feels like shit when she rolls her eyes at him, but there’s a small smile tugging at her mouth which tells him that she’s not offended.

“He said he wants you to be there.” She says and continues at Steve’s confused expression, “Bucky said he wants you there during transportation.”

“Why” and at Natasha’s shrug he rubs a hand over his face, “I though you said I couldn’t see him.” He says, but his voice isn’t accusatory

“I did, but under the circumstances, things have to be shifted around a little.  At least once in a while they have to.” She says and takes another bite of the celery.

“What circumstances?” Sam, who came in a few minutes ago to listen in, asks.

She glances briefly at Sam and smiles before she turns her attention back to Steve, “Do you know how many thing’s he’s asked for since he’s been in our custody?” she asks him and the tone of her voice unnerves him enough to make him forget about words, he only shakes his head at her.  The lines around her mouth tighten when she frowns, “One thing.” She says and he licks his lips anxiously, not wanting to say anything in the now tense stillness of the kitchen, “You know what he asked for?” and she smiles without any humor, he doesn’t like it, because when she does it he knows she’s hurting more than usual.

“Dogs.” He says quietly and she nods her head, again, there’s something in the air around Natasha, he knows this is bothering her more than she can admit.  He _knows_ what she went through, not everything, but she told him about the Red Room, about the other little girls.  He doesn’t know what to say, he can feel Sam’s worried concern from across the island in their shared kitchen, but luckily Natasha starts to talk, dispelling the tension in the air.

“Yup, asked Clint for his Dogs and that’s it.  He eats- or well ate, when we gave him food, he hasn’t attacked anyone, including himself.  He exercises at the same time every day, right before Clint brings the dogs, and then he plays with them.  He doesn’t do anything else Steve, and so when these things aren’t happening he just sits across from the big window and stares at it, at whoever’s siting on the opposite side.” She takes a deep breath and she doesn’t look at him when she starts again, “He’s stopped everything, doesn’t talk to Clint- he was teaching him a bit of Russian before he completely shut down.  He’s stopped playing with the dogs as much as he had.”

She seems sadder at this than anything else, he forgets sometimes about how much Natasha loves animals.  She told him once that they liked her, even when she was under the Red Room and later when she was not affiliated with anyone, they came to her and she wasn’t as alone when they were with her.

“We told him,” she says, “we said that we think he should be moved again because he’s obviously not adjusting well in the facility, and well, we got a response from him then.  He moved his head over and looked at me and, Steve, before they looked alert but they were glazed over, after though they were guarded but there was something behind them, to me it looked a little like surprise.  He looked at me and asked ‘for the Captain to be there.’ And it was such a surprise I’m pretty sure Clint choked on his spit, which in turn made Bucky snort.  He looked like he was himself again, after that, so I’m came here to ask if you wanted to be there when we move him?”

“Yes.” Steve nearly yelled, not letting Natasha finish all the way, making Sam roll his eyes and Natasha finish the celery stick to hide her smile.

She slips off of the counter and raises her eyebrow, “You wanna tell him or…” and Steve actually thinks about the question before going with his gut instinct to say ‘yes’.

“I think,” he says slowly, “maybe you or Clint should tell him, just you know, tell him I’ll be there.” He finishes hesitantly, think it was the wrong answer, but Natasha just nods her head and makes her way to the door, but turns around with a dazzling smile that always makes Steve snort.

“0300, soldier.” And mock salutes, which makes Sam huff affectionately

After she leaves Steve turns to Sam and then looks around the kitchen, his eyes straying on the empty celery package longingly.  He hears Sam huff again, affectionate but also somewhat exasperated, as he jumps off the small chair he was sitting on, and grabs his jacket off the hook near the door, “Let’s go get your damn celery sticks.” And waves his hand to the door.

Steve rubs his neck, embarrassed, but the promise of the celery sticks rises his spirits again.  He and Sam walk down the street to the small convinces store a few blocks from their apartment, they says hello to the old woman standing behind the cashier and Steve makes a B line to the small vegetable section at the back of the store.  Sam stays behind a little talking to the old woman, after he can see Sam looking through the sauce section.  Steve shakes his head a little, amused, that man has a pasta addiction.

He’s looking at his two favourite brands of vegetable dip when he hears a slight commotion at the front, quickly and silently he steps through the aisles and spots Sam at gun point in front of the checkout counter.  Steve’s chest constricts at the sight of his friend in danger (later he’ll laugh a little because he’s seen Sam fall out of a plane getting shot at and land near Steve without a scratch, but apparently seeing Sam in civilian clothes with a gun pointed at his head is a completely different situation) and he steps out of the aisles, trying to get behind the person.  It’s a young woman, almost as big as Sam, he notes as she turns around and points the gun at Steve’s chest.

Her eyes widen as she probably recognizes him and turns her back to the empty aisle so she can see both Sam and him.  Her eyes remind him of Bucky’s but there’s a hidden layer of stress and absolute fear in them, his heart aches for this young woman, but she has a gun pointed at his chest and he has a date which he can miss tomorrow. 

He steps forward with his hands up and her gun raises even more, he stops in his tracks.

“I don’t want to shoot Captain America.” She breathes harshly and looks at Sam, “Or the Falcon for that matter.” And Steve nods his head as Sam steps in front of the petrified woman

“Then don’t” he steps slightly forward again but this time the girl clicks the safety off, it’s loud in the quiet of the small store and he can hear Sam quickly whisper his name, but he and the girl are still staring at each other.

“I just need- need the money ok.”

His feet shuffle closer, “I understand-“ he tries but the young woman’s eyes suddenly blaze with anger and she steps closer, a few feet and he’ll be able to get the gun-

“No you don’t!” and he feels something tear through his shirt, through his skin. 

He hears the gun fall out of her grasp and Sam rushes her, kicking the gun out of reach.  He’s having trouble breathing and his vision blurs slightly and he sees the old woman look down at him with a phone cradled in her small hands, talking quickly with someone.

He feels hands at his neck and Sam’s looming over him suddenly.

“The ‘irl” he mumbles from the side of his mouth and Sam looks to his left

“She’s fine, she’s- I think she’s freaking out.” He says with a smile that, like Natasha’s, has no humor and Steve tries to pat Sam’s check in comfort but he mostly just covers the other man’s face with blood, he quickly retracts his hand

“Shit.” A breath, “I’ll be fine Sam, got shot in the war couple times.  ‘ll be good.” He hears the sirens outside and Sam nods

“Yeah you will.” He says firmly

“’ucky shot me.”

“Yeah he did.”

“Was fine.”

“Yeah you were.”

Rougher hands are now touching him and then hauling him up into the air.

He must have blacked out because he sees a man in green looking over him, but then his vision blacks out again, his last thought floats around his head for a while.

_Always missin’ your dates Rogers_

It’s a bit of a comfort that the voice sounds like Bucky’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: Steve gets shot and both loses consciousness due to natural causes and because he gets to the hospital and they put him under.
> 
> 1)Natasha has a key
> 
> 2)Both Clint and the Dogs were heart broken 
> 
> 3)Celery Sticks are cool, but like with dip, not how Natasha was eating them... That's just ugh 
> 
> 4)They're moving him early because there's less chance for a problem to occur 
> 
> 5)The girl got arrested


	7. Sedatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at how little I wrote.
> 
> Wow, I'm so sorry.

He doesn’t understand why he can’t go to the hospital after they tell him to _sit down._

“Why not?” his voice sounds childlike to his own ears

“You aren’t well sir.” A woman in a lab coat tells him

“But I’m his- He _needs_ me.” And the woman shakes her head and writes something down, in infuriates him so much he disobeys and gets up.  It’s been a while since he stood up without being forced but they all know what he’s capable of even in extreme pain (especially in extreme pain) so he’s not surprised that guards flood in, followed be Clint and Natasha.  He points his finger at her clipboard.

“What do you want me to do?”

The doctor raises her eyebrow, “What?” God help him.

“You want me to say that name?  Huh?  Want me to call myself that?  Ok” he stalks up to Clint and grabs the other man’s hand roughly, the man grunts but goes along with it.

“Hi, my name’s James Buchanan Barnes.  What’s yours?”  Before he lets the man open his mouth to answer he moves to Natasha.  He grabs her hand as well, but the woman only grinds her teeth slightly, a vein in her forehead twitches.

“Hi,” he plasters a smile, all killer and less friendly, ”my name” he squeezes her hand, she squeezes back harder, “is James” he lets go, “Buchanan” turns towards the doctor, who’s still sitting, “Barnes.” Before he gets a meter within the doctor’s personal space his knees buckle and he goes down with a laugh.

God, he hates sedatives.

*

She and Clint switch between hospital rooms.

They bet who wakes up first (Bucky).

They bet who sneaks into whose room (Steve).

Natasha wins and Clint can’t say he’s too surprised.

*

When Steve finally ( _Finally)_ leaves Bucky’s room at 3:00 am Natasha slips in.

He looks at her and bites his lip.

“I don’t remember him.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine, just a little crack.”

“I miss my dogs.”

“Oh.”

He glares at her and she shrugs back at him.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Natasha says, “You want me to say you’ll remember him?  You probably won’t, I didn’t remember you and we had similar, uh, conditioning.” She waves a hand at his confused face, “I’m not as young as you think.” He looks away from her then and that won’t do.  “Bucky,” It’s another glare he shoots her but she’ll take it, “you want me to tell you something you want to hear?  My hands fine, it’s healing, but what you did is unacceptable.”  He opens his mouth but Natasha cuts him off, “I don’t care about what I went through, about what we went through, I care about right now.  Do you understand me, I don’t like pain, I get that its necessary, but you have to know that what you did was wrong and that it hurt more than my hand.”

Bucky looks ashamed but he looks like he understands, “I’m sorry.” He says quietly, staring at Natasha, who smiles.

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s groan echoes in the room, as does Natasha’s muffled laughter.

*

“So…”

“What is it Clint?”

The other man looks stumped and lost in his own mind.  Steve waves his hands slowly in front of his friend’s face, “Clint.”

Clint jumps and looks back to Steve, “Oh, shit, yeah, I just- God this is gonna sound really insensitive, seeing as though she’s the one that put you here, but um, you know that girl right, that kind of…” he makes finger guns and pretends to shoot Steve, in turn Steve nods, amused, “Well I was wondering if you- Wait no, that’s stupid, why would you?  You were in surgery.”

“Clint.” Steve says impatiently

“It’s just- did you catch a name?  Maybe just a little one when you were falling unconscious?  No?  Yeah I didn’t really think you would.”

“I’m really- Clint, please explain.”  Steve says and Clint falls onto a chair next to Steve’s hospital bed.

“It’s nothing really, just- have I ever told you that I delivered a baby once?”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was kind of-“

“Clint, this isn’t helping.”

“Oh my god, ok, fine, long story short I helped deliver a baby while I was still in the Circus and then I never heard from them again.  So I’ve been kind of worried for like, um, 20+ years maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“Ok, I’ve been worried for a while.  But, y’know, Fury isn’t the only one who can compartmentalize.”

Steve rolls his eyes but frowns a second later, “Why do you think it’s her?” From what Steve remembers the woman was young, might’ve been 20 years old now that he’s thinking about it.

“I don’t think it’s her.”

“Oh”

“Yeah…  I just really wanna find them you know, make sure they’re good.  I mean she looked like the mom?”

Steve hums, doesn’t mention that the woman was trying to steal form a convenience store.  Instead he pursues his lips focusing on the last bit.

“How’d you know what she looked like?”

Clint opens his mouth, and then closes it, and then opens it again, before finally closing it.

“Um,” Oh no, Steve thinks, this is gonna be great, “the security videos kind of leaked?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “Why do you keep ending your sentences with questions?”

Clint flings his arms around, “They told me not to stress you!  Me!  I can’t- I literally just told you that you getting shot is up on the internet!  Oh God I did it again!” he ends with thunking his head on Steve’s bed.  Steve pats the man’s head lightly

“When’s the last time you had coffee?”

“Eight Years.”

“Damn, how are you even alive right now?”

“I know right”

Steve chuckles and Clint readjusts himself so his face is now turned away from Steve and is resting on his arms.

“Thanks for letting me see Bucky.”

“Sure thing bro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) i'm too tired for words
> 
> Edit 1) kind of changed it a little, still the same though

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I know that's not how tiles work but whatever
> 
> 2) The shelter is (was?) a Hydra safe house, that's why he knew where some stuff was and the person he killed was in fact Hydra but also a employee at the shelter if you know what i'm saying...
> 
> 3) I don't know anything about the US and I don't know why I picked Oklahoma (I do actually, I like saying the word Oklahoma...)
> 
> 4) I fucking love dogs ok, they're gonna be main characters


End file.
